


What I need

by Beryll (Rynthjan)



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Queen - Freeform, Victory, demon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 23:18:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6631168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynthjan/pseuds/Beryll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winning everything isn't enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What I need

Watching my brother die should have been the most exhilarating moment of my life.

After all those years of humiliation, pain and strife. After running the land red with blood. After sacrificing so much. 

It should have been a moment of triumph, watching the executioner's axe decent, hearing the cheer rise from the crowd. 

It battered my senses.

Feeling drained and tired, this was supposed to lift my spirits.

They hailed me as their saviour, the impossible hero, who defeated death itself to bring down the tyrant, snatching victory from his invincible hordes.

Blood dripped, as my brother's head was held up high for everyone to see.

I smiled for them, I waved, I endured the honourable arm clasps of my comrades in arms and the incessant shouting of my name.

The crown, the throne, the people - it was all mine now. More than it had ever been my brother's for it was given freely.

Everything a girl could ever dream of - power, respect, freedom.

It was suffocating me.

Had I walked out of hell for this?

I had.

But somewhere along the way the goal had become irrelevant compared to the sheer thrill of survival on the battlefield.

Now that was over.

Total victory inevitably brought peace with it.

It played out like an elaborate show, orchestrated for an audience of one - me. The parade, the speeches, the feast. I said all the right things, didn't miss a step of this strange dance and at the same time I felt like a helpless captive in my own body.

No more killing, no more hardship, no more injustice - I fully intended to keep those promises and despaired over it.

Finally closing the door on them, alone in my brother's decadent suite of rooms, the silence was a benediction. With my back pressed against the door, my eyes closed tightly, my fingers gripping the handle of my sword so hard it hurt.

I wasn't fit to be their queen. I was a rabid predator, barely held by its chains.

The taste of luxurious pastries and exquisite wine was sour in my mouth, the scent of roses and and incense made me sick. I longed for the stench of blood and sweat.

"Poor princess, poor general, poor queen."

The voice stole into my ears like poison, like velvet draped over an assassin's blade.

I smiled.

"Miss me, did you?"

Always.

None of them knew.

I had not escaped out of hell, didn't run. I had walked, slowly, looking back over my shoulder in longing.

Her fingers crept up my neck to cradle my face, too hot, burning me oh so good. I leaned into her touch. Her chuckle was breathless with desire.

"And I missed you."

She leaned in closer, her scent of blood and brimstone all around me now, arousing me with memories of what we could do to each other.

"Yes, all of that."

At her purr, my hands came up, arms steeled by battle pulled her closer as I dragged her in that last inch to kiss her.

When I bargained my soul to her for revenge, she did not expect to lose herself to me in turn, but we had both gained more than we lost.

Living on the battlefield there had hardly ever been a chance for her to sneak close to me unseen. But now she was here.

"Mine."

I wasn't sure who of us had said it and we both laughed. Maybe I could do this after all.

"Of course you can. And remember - there will always be war in hell."


End file.
